


Two if by Sea

by tormalyne



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tormalyne/pseuds/tormalyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When someone broke into his apartment, Kagami expected some petty larceny or maybe a demand for some cash, not Kise Ryouta, who was supposed to be back in Japan with the rest of the Generation of Miracles, terrorizing the nation’s college basketball scene and breaking hearts left and right as his modeling career took off in spite of his busy tournament season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two if by Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [viridianova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viridianova/gifts).



When someone broke into his apartment, Kagami expected some petty larceny or maybe a demand for some cash, not to have the blinds yanked back so the scorching morning light could hammer mercilessly at his eyes and the erstwhile robber could shake his shoulder in a confusingly friendly way. The sudden onslaught of terrible, terrible brightness left Kagami groaning and stunned, flailing a little as he tried to unwrap himself from his sheets and only managed to tangle himself up further, go diving for the edge of the bed, and fall face first onto the floor at the robber’s feet.

“Rise and shine, Kagamicchi,” the robber caroled, beaming down at him like that made any sense. Kagami stared dumbly up at Kise Ryouta, who was supposed to be back in Japan with the rest of the Generation of Miracles, terrorizing the nation’s college basketball scene and breaking hearts left and right as his modeling career took off in spite of his busy tournament season. He was very definitely not supposed to be in Kagami’s bedroom, breaking and entering and waving a bag of something that smelled amazing, rich eggs, tomato, and the grease of deep fried sausage wafting out of the cheap paper sack dangling from Kise’s long fingers above Kagami’s head.

“I’m only here for a day, my flight back’s at seven tomorrow. I brought breakfast, so hurry up and get dressed.”

It was probably lucky Kagami was still half asleep, because that was really the only thing that had him actually getting up and following the instructions, pulling on the nearest clean clothes he could find and trailing after Kise and his wonderful, wonderful food into the kitchen. Kise was waiting for him and had already made himself at home, cheerfully pouring what looked and smelled like blended grass out of a styrofoam cup and into one of Kagami’s glasses. Thankfully, there was also a glass of orange juice waiting on the counter that Kise pushed over to him. Kagami grabbed for it gratefully and hunched over, eyeing the liquid green sludge in Kise’s glass suspiciously. Kagami didn’t think he could deal with health food _and_ Kise Ryouta this early in the morning.

It still felt surreal to see Kise at his kitchen counter, divvying out portions of breakfast burrito from the street stand a block away onto two of Kagami’s Fiestaware plates. It didn’t make any sense. Kise had more photo shoots than he had time (something he often complained bitterly about to Kagami in his mails, to which Kagami's habitual reply was to tell him to suck it up), university, and a new basketball team to keep him halfway across the world. Seeing him puttering around in Kagami’s kitchen, wearing the UCLA hoodie he’d weaseled out of Kagami through an impressively aggressive campaign of crying emoji and almost-in-person sad faces on Skype, was like the world had taken one step to the left and decided to stay that way. Kise didn’t belong here. Kagami couldn’t figure out why he’d come.

Kise looked up from whatever he was doing with the burritos and raised a perfectly groomed brow at Kagami’s intent stare, completely unruffled by the laser attention of Kagami’s puzzled exasperation.

“What are you even doing here?” Kagami asked finally, when Kise made no move to provide an explanation. He felt unbalanced, like he’d woken up and the world was subtly off its axis, spinning very slowly but surely off course.

“I had a shoot,” Kise said, which actually did explain a lot. At least, it explained the part about what Kise was doing on this side of the ocean instead of back in Japan. Before Kagami could demand more of an answer than that, though, Kise smiled, wry and a little rueful, and said, “And I came to see you.”

Kagami snorted and reached for his share of burrito before Kise could do anything with the lettuce he’d pulled out of Kagami’s fridge to ruin it, but he was smiling, just a little. A day, barely even twenty four hours. That wasn’t much time, but he’d make do.

–

Kise took to surfing as naturally as anything else, which was to say so quickly and easily that Kagami honestly hated him for the first few seconds he was standing on the board, tall and strong and backlit by the sun burning haze off the ocean, looking like he’d been catching waves all his life. The light glittered in his hair and reflected off the rippling water to cast bright points all across his legs, his bare chest, his upturned face. Get him a wetsuit, and if it weren’t for how pale his skin was, Kise could’ve been any one of the semi-pros Kagami saw out the mornings he woke up early enough to come down to the beach before class. 

There were some things just looking couldn’t teach, though, and Kise might have been the picture perfect echo of Kagami’s form, but keeping his balance when a wave came rolling ponderously in was more a matter of experience than the angle of his feet.

Kagami watched with anticipatory raptness as Kise was sent swaying, arms pinwheeling madly before he lost his balance entirely and tumbled backwards off his borrowed board and into the sea. The expression on Kise’s face for the few moments before he hit the water was a cross of such shock and outraged betrayal that it left Kagami clinging to his own board with laughter, gasping for breath and trying not to inhale half the sea and go under himself.

He didn’t get to laugh for much longer, not when Kise got the hang of shifting his balance to the roll of the water with his usual ease. After that, it was more a matter of finding bigger and bigger waves before Kise copied his technique and outdid him with it. Kagami couldn’t even muster up that initial sense of the unfairness of it all, though, not when he was streaking over the water, riding the foaming crest of a wave with Kise behind him and spilling bright laughter in his wake as they raced for the shore.

By the time his stomach started grumbling too loudly to ignore, it was late afternoon and neither of them could stand anymore, legs too wobbly from sheer exhaustion. They let the waves carry them back to the beach, splashing each other from their belly-down perches on their boards until they had to dog paddle through the shallows. Kise was sure to have an awful time of it tomorrow, using unfamiliar muscles for so long, but he didn’t seem to mind after he’d flopped onto his back in the sand to catch his breath, eyes closed and grinning. Kagami dug around in the cooler he’d packed and left waiting for them before he stretched out beside Kise and pressed a water bottle to the curve of Kise’s neck. Kise’s cheeks were pinking from the sun despite the truly unbelievable amount of sunscreen he’d had Kagami help him put on and grains of sand were clinging to his damp skin. He looked messy, human and ordinary with sweat gleaming at his temples, a little like he did on the basketball court.

Kise looked like he belonged there, or at least _could_ , and Kagami had to sit up, shove at Kise’s shoulder, and grumble something about getting dehydrated after all the sun and saltwater before anything stupid could come out like asking for the impossible - like asking Kise to stay.

–

Kise let Kagami persuade him into eating real food while he was out from under his agency’s watchful gaze with surprisingly little protest. Considering the green smoothie thing Kise’d had for breakfast; Kagami’d thought he’d have to put up a fight and endure accusations about luring Kise away from some figure-preserving diet, but then again, Kise’s metabolism was frankly criminal and he kept up with enough stamina conditioning that he probably could eat a steak for every meal and still fit into whatever glittery pants he needed to on any given day.

They staggered back to Kagami’s apartment for quick showers and went out for burgers at a tiny little shack looking out over the water, propped up on stilt-legs and bordered by the wave-softened stones of an old breakwater. Over a basket of fries, they traded stories: Akashi and Midorima were both at Todai and Midorima had deigned to start mailing Kise just to complain about it. Kagami had been ambushed after his last game by a group of transfer students who had, through genuinely impressive detective work, determined that he did actually know famous model Kise Ryouta, and could they maybe get his number, yes, even though he was in Japan and it would be long distance, no they didn’t think that maybe Kise wouldn’t be thrilled if his friends started giving out his number to anyone who asked.

Even with ketchup smeared over his fingers and the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights washing him out while he talked and talked, Kise was still the best thing Kagami’d ever seen, a first, fresh breath after being cooped up in air he hadn’t even realized was stale and stagnant until after there was a breeze. For a moment, it felt like Kagami could blink and wake up, like the whole day had been a dream.

“Kagamicchi, are you even listening to me?” Kagami started. Kise was smiling at him, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was only just holding back laughter, and a little like he didn’t really mind even if Kagami hadn’t heard a word he’d said. Kagami scowled at being caught out staring, better than blushing at least, and shoved the last of his third burger into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to answer.

–

Kagami still felt like he was finally coming up for air that night when they were in bed, sharing Kagami’s king size because Kise wasn’t going to sleep on the couch and risk the wrath he’d incur for getting wrinkles or bags under his eyes when he’d already had to make several highly inconvenient promises to his manager just to get the extra day off. It was strange having another weight on the mattress. Kagami thought he could feel himself being drawn toward Kise like the force of gravity had increased, the springs all dipping and slanted toward Kise lying beside him, breathing softly but not the even rhythm of sleep. Kagami stared up at the ceiling, listening to the clatter of someone walking up the wooden stairs on the back side of the building, the low, periodic rumble of three AM traffic – all familiar sounds and somehow utterly alien when set against every quiet inhale and exhale of Kise’s breath. 

The mattress groaned as Kise rolled onto his side and Kagami turned his head to look over at him. The orange lamplight from the window reflected in Kise’s eyes, turning them dark and glittering as he stared back at Kagami. Outside, one of Kagami’s neighbors cursed, muffled as he fumbled with the door, the indistinguishable murmur of his voice breaking, fading against the warm, dark cocoon of the room.

Kagami held his breath as he reached out, let his fingers curve along the sharp jut of Kise’s hip, barely hidden by the thin cotton of his sleep pants. Kise breathed, in and out, again, and again, and his eyes closed. It was too dark for Kagami to make out Kise’s expression.

–

Kise was up before him again and had also been out to get breakfast again if the smell of cinnamon drifting from the kitchen was real and not a wishful hallucination. Kagami stumbled out of bed and into a mostly upright seat at the counter where he spent the first five minutes of consciousness inhaling the sticky buns Kise kept putting in front of him. After the first four, his brain started working a little, and Kagami swiveled around, still chewing as he gave his front door a disgruntled stare. It was easier than looking at Kise who still, despite having slept as little as Kagami, was showered and dressed, looking ready not only for his trip back to Japan but also for any tabloid pictures enterprising paparazzi might want to snap along the way. 

“Don’t worry,” Kise said, following Kagami’s stare and rolling his eyes. “I locked the door after me so no terrible mugger could come murder you in your sleep.”

Kagami swallowed the remains of the pastry and eyed Kise narrowly. “How’d you lock the door? Wait, how did you even get in yesterday?”

The smile Kise gave him said perfectly well he knew he was an asshole and that he also knew he was going to get away with it.

“Oh, I told Alex I would be in the area and she sent me a spare key.” Kise delivered his pronouncement with casual carelessness and sipped at his orange juice like this wasn’t one of the most terrifying things Kagami had ever heard. It was even worse than the time Kagami’d been forced to keep Nigou over break; at least Kagami was reasonably certain the damn dog hadn’t been making friends and plotting against him in his sleep.

Before Kagami could demand to know how, when, and why the hell anyone thought it was a good idea to let Kise talk to Alex of all people, Kise dug around in his pocket, pulled out the key, and set it on the counter. Kagami was distracted by glowering at it balefully.

“Sorry for all the trouble,” Kise murmured, and slid the key over to leave it sitting beside Kagami’s plate. He didn’t look the slightest bit sorry, but Kagami hadn’t expected him to. “I thought I should give this back before I left.”

Kagami let the seconds tick by as he stared at the key, glinting innocuously on the tile with its newness. It wasn’t like he’d ever thought to get more than one spare made. He hadn’t thought he’d have any reason to.

He shrugged, pushed the key back toward Kise, and went for another sticky bun.

“Keep it,” he said. “You can drop in whenever you’re in town.”


End file.
